


Bellies of the Beasts

by withcameraandpen



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 10:00:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17302541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withcameraandpen/pseuds/withcameraandpen
Summary: The Divine Beasts gave their Champions what they needed. Zelda's, as it turned out, needed her more than she needed it.





	Bellies of the Beasts

Vah Naboris was Urbosa’s palace.

Leading the Gerudo was an honor and a privilege, but that privilege came with never-ending responsibilities that ensured she rarely traveled beyond the highlands. When she did, it was to settle foreign disagreements and strengthen ties with the rest of Hyrule. She always found Zora’s Domain beautiful, the wonder carved from a single mountain of luminous stone, but the stubborn Zora soured her visits there. For all the luxuries bestowed upon Gerudo royalty, traveling for one’s own enjoyment was not one of them.

When Urbosa first met Naboris, she was struck with the notion that the Sheikah artisans consulted the Gerudo people while constructing her. The Gerudo prized fierce beauty as highly as strength and skill in battle, and Vah Naboris was as deadly as she was beautiful. The electricity coursing through her veins, the beam that would annihilate Calamity Ganon, the powerful legs that carried the mass of trap-rigged hallways all exuded the philosophy of her people: battle was the most beautiful ceremony in Hyrule.

Vah Naboris was Urbosa’s throne room and caravan all rolled into one. She could traverse the desert in a day. When she could convince the Sheikah scientists to allow the aging invention up the highlands, Urbosa would likewise climb to the camel’s humps, lower her neck, and gaze across Hyrule, all which seemed so reachable from Spectacle Rock. They could surely make it to Hyrule Castle in a few days’ time. Without Sand Seals, no one in Hyrule stood a chance against Vah Naboris, the Divine Beast of the Gerudo.

Now, as Urbosa practiced guiding her across the East Barrens, her mind wandered back to Hyrule Castle, where a little bird was desperate to fly the nest. No, not quite fly, she decided. Princess Zelda was eager to serve her people, but so far, the power they needed from her was out of her reach. 

If only Zelda’s research could save Hyrule. 

The Gerudo were not overly faithful. Some would pray to the goddess Hylia before a battle, but the Hylians lived and died on the goddess’ will, and that had never much suited Urbosa. Nor did she think it was good for Zelda. How many years had the princess dedicated to her faith in Hylia? How much had she poured into awakening the sealing power, only to be rebuffed again and again?

And that father of hers was no help. Zelda had a talent for research and a love of science, but she also had the bad luck to be born when Ganon was preparing to return. If she were born just a few decades earlier, she could have restored honor to the Sheikah and their inventions, blazing a path ahead for a better-equipped, better-prepared Hyrule.

Then again, Urbosa supposed, she would not have had the good fortune to meet Zelda’s mother.

The queen of Hyrule and the chief of the Gerudo had a friendship that not even death could stop. Even now, Urbosa took up the mantle the queen had left behind, aiding her little bird however she could. Zelda was so similar to her mother, but the iron will she applied to her prayer was King Rhoam’s.

The Divine Beast Vah Naboris was many things. It was ferocity, it was grace, it was a roaming castle. Though as Urbosa spent the cool nights in the twin humps on the Beast’s back, experimenting with the electrical currents that controlled the movement of their floors, she could see a pair of bedrooms taking shape.

Perhaps after all this was over and Ganon was safely sealed away, Zelda could conduct her research within this very Divine Beast. Perhaps Vah Naboris could be a safe house, too. A nest for the little bird.

 

*****

 

Vah Rudania was Daruk’s living room.

Gorons were close-knit by nature. Few travelers come through Goron City, and even fewer want to stay longer than absolutely necessary (one day, Rogaro would see sense and stop charging two thousand rupees for a fire-resistant helmet). So when you see the exact same people day in and day out, even perfect strangers can become family.

The Sheikah are brilliant, but they could be boneheads. Who wakes up a ten-thousand-year-old Divine Beast and expects people to stay away? And did they know what a Goron was? The hardiest race in Hyrule, that’s what!

The peak of Death Mountain was the only place they could situate Rudania without destroying a mine or hot spring, but Daruk loved to bring him down to the city to invite his brothers into the belly of the beast. They would rocks to share and drums to beat, and they’d make entire mountain merry. It became clear soon enough that he couldn’t hold these parties very often, though, since the keen-eyed Sheikah would see their precious invention being used as a convention hall and report to the Hylian king. this was the last time they should be straining the ties between their jurisdictions.

But the only thing more important than preserving those ties was keeping his own city alive. Don’t worry about anything until there’s something to worry about. That was the Goron way. Sure, they had Ganon looming over them as strongly as Rudania’s shadow, but what good could panic bring them now?

So Daruk and his brothers made sure to enjoy the Sheikah Beast while they had him. He would bring all their tribe’s little ones into Rudania, open the windows upon his back, and take them on a climb around Death Mountain. They would shriek with delight as they watched Goron City disappear, thrilled to enjoy the merry-go-round ride, though Daruk had to be careful when piloting. An overexcited cub might just roll out the windows if he didn’t keep the Beast level.

Link, though not a cub, had nearly done just that when he brought him in the first time. The princess’ appointed knight, he thought smugly. The little guy had attained maybe the greatest honor in Hyrule: to protect Princess Zelda. The responsibility of her welfare and safety was as great as the Champions’ responsibility with their Divine Beasts. Maybe more! Well, with that handy dandy darkness-sealing sword Link toted, the job might be easier than at first glance. After all, with the way word had spread about that sword and the knight who carried it, Daruk was certain the story had evaporated half the dangers posed to the princess.

Hyrule was in a rough place. Ganon was coming back, and the princess was struggling to unlock that power. But when Daruk brought his brothers into Vah Rudania and watched Link politely refuse Goron delicacies, Ganon’s return seemed so far away. No one could—or wanted to—imagine disaster befalling their home. 

 

*****

 

Vah Medoh was Revali’s stage.

After constant training and practice, Revali had surpassed what the Flight Range could offer him. Luckily, the Divine Beast of the Rito had brought with him challenges befitting a Champion. The ancient Sheikah material hardly dented, despite bearing the impact of countless bomb arrows. The currents of air that wove through Medoh’s body made excellent strength and agility tests. He had found a place to really work his wings.

Rito warriors never gave up or, a worse crime, got complacent. Who settled for “good enough” when “better” hung just a little higher in the sky? With Ganon looming ever closer, stopping at “good enough” was unacceptable.

Revali was a plain-speaking Rito, which had gotten him in trouble with their elder time and time again. Well, what was he meant to do when confronted with something out of order? Keep his beak shut?

And that Hylian champion with the darkness-sealing sword…Revali couldn’t imagine a graver mistake than making him the lynchpin of their plan.

Link was purported to be the greatest swordsman in Hyrule, but he couldn’t help wondering how much of that reputation was owed to the sword itself. The Master Sword, as the legends called it, was meant to have a voice within it. And if a sword could have a voice, could it not have skill in battle? In a world of magic and Sheikah technology, surely a self-fighting sword was within the realm of possibility. 

In fact, Revali felt so confident with the idea that he proposed it to Princess Zelda when she visited him and Medoh. Making careful adjustments on her scientists’ instructions, he made the rogue suggestion that the weapons themselves might be enchanted or built in such a way that armies could be made only of swords. 

Zelda had toyed with the idea a bit, promising to deliver it back to the royal laboratory, but confessed she was not optimistic. If they could replicate the magic of the Master Sword, she said, there would be no use in hiding it away in the Lost Woods. 

But if they could, he countered, then she may not be stuck with Link for a protector.

The princess admonished him for such a thing, but he could hear the hopefulness in her voice at the idea. He knew she and Link had a strained connection—anyone would if someone dogged their footsteps so closely. And Princess Zelda was a creature of independence. Protection didn’t suit her.

But there was something else in her voice that day. She was desperate for anything that could get her appointed knight out of her sight. No matter how independent she was, surely she recognized the danger that came with being the Hylian princess? All joking aside, Revali knew Link was a necessary evil.

And she did, too, he found after a little prying. She did, but his evil was of a more personal nature.

“You know, you say all those things about him without realizing they’re about me, too,” she said to Revali. “About doing nothing to earn his keep. If he doesn’t deserve to be the Champion that fights Ganon, what did I do to deserve the Hylian crown or this sealing power?”

Revali was stunned. “Princess, I can think of no one who more deserves the Hylian crown.”

He had caught heartbreaking scraps about Zelda’s struggle from Champion Urbosa. Revali had never been in a similar position as she: he had never watched a friend of his work so long for nothing to come of it. You’ve been self-training for years. I think Hyrule would flourish under a queen with such dedication.”

Zelda’s eyes widened, but she wasn’t sold yet. “A queen who cannot access her birthright?”

“The goddesses can be cruel. If accessing that power were easy, we would all be able to do it.”

He glanced out the windows that formed Medoh’s eyes. Rito Village towered below them, with its Goddess Statue attended carefully and lovingly. “Hylia chose you to bear it because when it does manifest itself, it is in the most capable hands to wield it. Hands that have studied and prayed and will only use it for good.”

She was smiling when he dropped her off near the hills of Rito Stable, her appointed knight racing from Rito Village to meet her. And maybe they were both enjoying Link’s scrambling up the mountain a little too much, but things looked a little funnier from this point of view.

 

*****

 

Vah Ruta was Mipha’s training ground. 

The Zora princess didn’t like training where she could be observed. When Muzu would train her at the foundation of the luminous stone structure that housed her kingdom, it was as though she could feel the entirety of Zora’s Domain watch her slip on the wet stone and be knocked away by the butt of her teacher’s spear. Upland Zorana was hilly enough to disguise their practice, and she always pointed out to Muzu and her father that a confined arena would teach her to pay attention to her environment.

King Dorephan had refused immediately, citing greater numbers of electric Lizalfos infiltrating the uplands. Mipha, though, saw that only as another reason to practice there, and would slip out under the cover of night. The guards let her go—surely the cordial and shy princess was only getting some fresh air, only heading out to clear her head.

And when her father remarked that it had been weeks since any report of a Lizalfos in the area, she had to turn away to hide her smile. 

Only one could sway her away from training in the uplands. And as she walked through the belly of Vah Ruta with him, she had to admit that the massive gears, the streams of water, and the room the central terminal was in would make excellent sparring conditions.

She and Link had engaged in some friendly sparring one night, in that very room. Princess Zelda was staying in the Domain and had been only too happy to allow her appointed knight to visit Mipha. They had begun to reminisce about their years-old encounter with the Lynel of Shatterback Point—had it really been years?—beside the jets surrounding one of Vah Ruta’s control terminals. Link, unequipped to ward off the water’s chill, was warming up and baking some apples as a midnight snack. His face glowed in the firelight, impassive as ever, and yet she saw a twinkle in those blue eyes that she was certain she had never seen around anyone else.

That twinkle matched so well with the gleam of the Zora armor he wore.

When all of this was over, Mipha and Link would officially announce their engagement and handle the fallout, if anyone could muster any (surely a successful stamping out of Ganon would grant them some grace from even Muzu). While it was her proposal to him, it was also her suggestion to keep their plans under wraps for now. They would declare their love to the world under happier circumstances. Their marriage would be a celebration of the years to come, not a race against time.

What _was_ Link’s suggestion, however, was that she keep his Zora armor with her belongings at the Domain. She had figured they could keep it safely in Vah Ruta, since only six people in Hyrule could board her and they were well hidden from prying eyes. And if not that, maybe he could keep it with his things, so he could always think of her. But maybe her fiancé liked the idea of King Dorephan or Muzu accidentally coming across the armor and realizing their secret. She and Link both had a hunger for thrill in them. How else could they take down that Lynel?

Or, perhaps, her future husband was too much of a soldier. It wasn’t lost on her that if something happened to them and they fell, her family would discover the armor when going through her things. Even in death, he wanted people to know they were in love. 

She did, too. She wanted to proclaim it to all of Hyrule, but only when Hyrule was safe and people could be properly excited for them. On this point they differed severely: she planned for a bright future, and he planned for the last resort.

And it had always rubbed her the wrong way.

 

*****

 

Hyrule Castle was Zelda’s greatest challenge.

In a Divine Beast, she was a scientist hard at work, experimenting exhaustively to understand the wonders the Sheikah left behind. She could learn in peace, and that learning would benefit their kingdom for generations to come. While researching the Beasts, she was not the future leader of Hyrule. She was Zelda.

In Hyrule Castle, though, she was the inadequate princess, the failing heir. She was the daughter who couldn’t tap into the royal family’s sacred sealing power. She was the princess who shouldn’t be the princess.

Now, though, as she trudged up the scorched central thoroughfare of Hyrule Castle Town, she was no longer the inquisitive student, the scientist eager to learn. She marched through the burning remains of the town, the survivors having been evacuated to Kakariko Village and beyond as the Guardians, their most powerful allies now spellbound by Ganon, razed everything in their paths. The Guardians would destroy Hyrule if she didn’t kill their power at the source.

The Champions were dead. They were trapped within their behemoths by Ganon’s forces and cut down by them, and then the Divine Beasts, too, were wrested under Ganon’s control. And Link…

He possesses the sword that seals the darkness, but he himself was the key to unlocking the light.

He fell to his grievous wounds near Fort Hateno. But now he was safely ensconced in the Shrine of Resurrection, another Sheikah wonder they had just barely gotten to work. Her appointed knight’s fate hung in the balance, but she had saved him from the Guardian bearing down on them and bought him enough time to be taken to heal.

The Guardian had set its sights on Link, and suddenly the sealing power, the princess’ birthright, had come to her as naturally as a song.

Now, though, she felt the sealing power building within her like a battle cry. Head held high, shoulders squared, she had reached the fountain in the center of town, Ganon looming over her, his jaw wide. 

He let out a great roar and soared towards her. She lifted her hand, and the golden light billowed out from her palm. Castle Town was awash in stunning gold, surrounded by magic as warm as Gerudo Desert, as the Rito’s Snowquill clothing, as her appointed knight’s protective embrace.

It wasn’t enough.

Canon was clawing through her brilliant defenses, tearing the light apart to vanquish the princess within. If he were weakened by the Divine Beasts and beaten into submission by the Master Sword, perhaps she could have vanquished him now.

The Champions were dead. Her appointed knight would remain sealed in the Shrine of Resurrection for a century. But Hyrule would not fall. 

Ganon must remain weak. If they wanted a hope of sealing him away in the future, he must remain weak, reined-in, contained until Link awoke. She had hidden the darkness-sealing sword away, and she had given Impa, Purah, and Robbie instructions for the next hundred years. Hylians were a resilient people—they would find their way without a crown for a little while.

She withdrew her powerful shield, and Ganon consumed her. 

The darkness swept her off her feet and spirited her away. The darkness was corrosive, exhaustive, already chipping away at her power. It brought her into what remained of the throne room and sealed her up inside a container made of Sheikah technology and shadow. And that was when Zelda acted.

The sealing power poured out of her, slicing through the core of Ganon’s being from the steeple to the dungeons. He squealed in pain, his power crumbling from the inside out, but he held fast. Ganon was powerful, but Zelda had the power of the royal family, the wisdom she’d learned from studying the Sheikah wonders, and the courageous spirit of her steadfast knight. She would be locked in combat with Ganon for every second of the next hundred years until Link awoke, but it was a battle she was finally ready for.

Zelda’s Divine Beast was Hyrule Castle, and she intended to save it.

 

*****

 

There was no place left in Hyrule for Link.

The Calamity was over, and Ganon was gone. He and Zelda were on the road again. It was how he had saved Zelda, and it was how they had attempted to save their kingdom a hundred years ago. Traveling suited him. He was never a sedentary soul, and never one for luxuries in life. He was a simple man who enjoyed simple pleasures.

He and Zelda were laid up in the stable near the Dueling Peaks, though they had only purchased one bed, which she occupied. He sat out by the fire, watching the full moon glide across the clear night. She hadn’t had a moment’s rest for a hundred years, while he spent the same century doing nothing but resting. The Shrine of Resurrection must have imbued him with adrenaline, or tenacity, or something else he didn’t have before.

He didn’t feel like the princess’s appointed knight. Then again, she didn’t much feel like a princess to him anymore, either. After everything they had been through, from their bitter beginning to their deep trust to the exhausted peace in a Calamity-less world, they weren’t “Princess” or “Champion” any longer. They were Link and Zelda.

He had regained his memory finally. A few clouds here and there, but he could remember his life before Ganon struck. He remembered when he first met Mipha as an adventurous tyke eager to learn to swim. He remembered ruffling Revali’s feathers merely by walking into a room, and yet the Rito’s pompous attitude drove him to train harder and prove that he had earned the right to wield the Master Sword. Daruk’s determination to make everyone feel welcome in any room, and the delight Urbosa took in her warnings to him regarding Zelda. He remembered when the foul Calamity manifested and took the Champions’ lives, and when he and Zelda were fleeing. The loneliness and terror of the Calamity had overcome the princess, but Link realized it just hadn’t sunk in yet for him. He hadn’t truly understood everything he lost.

Mipha. Her name sounded like a song, but he dared not speak it aloud. One glimpse of her in Vah Ruta wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to make up for the life they could have led together, or at least started. Would she have fought Waterblight Ganon harder, knowing she had someone to come home to? If he insisted they marry, even in secret, might she have survived? Surely they could have taken down Ganon with at least one Divine Beast!

And then he felt her hand on his shoulder. He knew her spirit must be at rest by now, having vanquished the vile beast that killed her. But he could swear he felt her hand on his shoulder, her presence wrapping around him and holding him until the dark clouds passed.

He still had her Grace. He still had Mipha.

And Mipha would not want him to mope around. They had a world to rebuild, after all. They had a future to prepare for and happiness to bring. Link knew that Urbosa would agree: Zelda had awakened her power and shut away Ganon, but they could prepare for the next resurgence. Surely they would come up with something in the next ten thousand years.

Link found himself laughing. Of course they had plenty of work to do, but Daruk wouldn’t shy away from it, either. The Gorons lived in impossible circumstances, so why should Hylians be any different? And Revali—well, Revali would insist on going above and beyond, and Link never shied away from a challenge.

The Sheikah had given Link a Divine Beast in the form of the labyrinth hidden beneath the Shrine of Resurrection. The other Champions had had their own trials to overcome, and Link had supposed his came in the form of finding the Master Sword in the Lost Woods. But he and Zelda were still facing trials of their own.

Link and Zelda were cut from the same cloth. Neither of them wanted to rest until their kingdom and their people were healed. Frankly, he preferred this. When Hyrule was right again, maybe he could settle down in that house in Hateno and return the Master Sword to the Deku Tree, where it belonged. For now, moving was essential. Vah Ruta wasn’t working again, for whatever reason. There was still work to do.

For one shining moment, he imagined all of them around the fire. Urbosa commanded the other stool, regal and disapproving of Daruk’s good-natured messing with Revali. _What do you mean,_ Link mouthed, though he heard the words in Daruk’s voice. _You get the most nutrients from pebbles. Go on, bud, try it!_

Mipha’s head rested on his knee, and sometimes she would crane her neck back to gaze up at him and ask why he’d stopped stroking her fins. Zelda wandered into this vision of his, too, studying the Sheikah Slate intently before muttering “Good night” and heading back inside. 

Their old Hyrule was gone, but Link and Zelda would build a Hyrule that their friends could be proud of. It will be the peaceful land they had all deserved, but only two of them would get to see.


End file.
